Worth the Fight

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Worth the Fight Page 7

by Beth Maria


  See, this is why we would never work. I’d be fine until I remembered what he did, leaving me heart broken. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get over this, or be able to give him another chance.

  “Let’s not talk about that right now. That’s not why I’m here and you know it,” I tell him, getting back to the matter at hand.

  “Look, I know you’ve come here to warn me not to fight, but I’m still going to do it. This is what I do, Em. This is who I am. I’m a fighter, and that is never going to change. That little boy who you used to know? He’s gone, and in his place is a monster who has been dealt a shitty hand in life. Just save your breath and go home.”

  He’s right. He’s not the little boy I used to know. He’s a man now, and a fine looking one at that. I’d have to be blind to not notice his appealing looks, though I’ve always been a sucker for him and his kind gentle heart, which I know is under there somewhere. Somewhere deep, deep down, waiting to resurface. And waiting to allow me in. Damn my subconscious again. This is why I get my hopes up – because of this damn voice that just won’t shut up.

  But go home? I want nothing more than to go home and snuggle up in my bed where I’m warm and safe. However, I promised Maxine that I would try, and I’m not leaving without trying.

  “I’m not going home,” I tell him resolutely, and he sighs in return.

  Phoenix stands up, rolling his shoulders and making the muscles in his back ripple, before pacing back and forth in front of me, not saying a word and not giving me eye-contact. He’s stressed again, broody, and hell if it isn’t sexy.

  A small smile plays on my lips.

  “Goddammit, Emilia! Why can’t you listen to me for once? I’ve told you to go home. You’re not wanted here. I don’t want you here,” he emphasizes. It hurts my heart hearing those words come out of his mouth. Who does he think he is, telling me where I can and can’t be? That temper of mine that’s been buried, nowhere to be seen for the last week, has resurfaced full pelt, ready to unleash hell. And all because of Phoenix.

  Before he can say anything else, I stand up and cut in my tone like acid.

  “Since when did you dictate to me where I should and shouldn’t be, Phoenix? I’m not your problem. I haven’t been since you forgot about me. I never once forgot about you, not once!” My voice is rising the longer that I’m speaking, my anger evident. I need this. I need to scream and shout at him for everything he’s done to me, for everything that I was never able to tell him, to confide in him. “I’m still allowed to care about you, Phoenix, and I will not have you take that away from me and shut me out. Yes, I know that I’ve shut you out and for a good reason, but until recently, I thought you were happy with your life, that you were getting on just fine without me. So when I hear that you need some help, that you need me to talk you out of making one of the biggest, most dangerous mistakes of your life, I’m going to be here, and not you or anybody else is going to stop me from caring about you. Understood?” I press my finger into his chest for emphasis. I breathe for the first time in what feels like minutes. I had word vomit there, needing to get everything out in the open, but boy did it feel good.

  Oh crap, my happy mood has just deteriorated quicker than it appeared. I just admitted to him that I still care about him. Until just now, when I said it out loud, I didn’t even realize that I still cared for him. It’s a shock to my system, and apparently, it’s a shock to Phoenix too, judging by his wide eyes, his icy blues staring straight into mine as he tries to figure me out.

  We’re standing toe to toe, staring at each other and not saying a single word. The only noise is the noise from the crowd in the other room.

  Without thinking, I lick my lips wet. Phoenix’s fixed stare moves from my eyes straight to my lips. Oh boy. The way he’s looking is like he wants to ravish them. It’s exciting and completely terrifying all at once. Do I want him to kiss me?

  I don’t have time to think about it as his lips crash down on mine, his hands going to my hips and pulling me flush against his hard chest. I’m stunned, but not stunned enough to not respond. My body doesn’t need to practice; it already knows exactly what it’s doing. We’re kissing like we never stopped for all these years, still in perfect sync with each other.

  I moan into his mouth, my body going limp. If it weren’t for his strong arms holding me up, I would be in a pile on the floor right now.

  Shocks are spreading all through my body from the close contact, setting me alive, though it’s not close enough. I don’t think he could ever be close enough to me.

  The feel of his tongue against mine is heaven, a heaven that I don’t want to come out of anytime soon. One of his hands leaves my hips to trail up my body, the touch not gentle in the slightest, and works its way into my hair before pulling, hard. My head goes back, causing us to lose connection and allowing him full access to my neck. I whimper, my lips feeling bare without Phoenix’s on mine to keep them warm. That thought is short lived when I feel his tongue run down the length of my neck to the top of my cleavage before he nibbles at the exposed skin. Goosebumps break out on my skin, and a shiver racks my body.

  “Mmm, you still taste like heaven,” Phoenix moans, the sound muffled by my flesh under his mouth.

  God, I’ve missed the way he makes me feel so bad. Nobody has ever made me feel like Phoenix has, and being in this moment right now helps me to realize that. Phoenix knows my body like no other. Only a single touch can set me on fire, but what he’s doing now, worshipping like he is, is burning my skin in a good way, and we’re not even having sex. That I know, if ever to happen, would be explosive.

  I fist my hands in Phoenix’s hair, feeling the silkiness of it running through my fingers. I’ve dreamed of doing this again for so long. My thoughts didn’t do it justice. I’ve always been a sucker for his silky strands, and apparently, I still am.

  Then, all too soon, I’m being stood up, Phoenix resting his hands on my cheeks and staring into my, I’m sure, dazed eyes, both of us panting heavily and trying to get our breath back.

  “We have to stop before I can’t. I’m due on in a few minutes.”

  I feel my body sag in disappointment.

  He’s still going to fight after everything I said to him. After I semi poured my heart out, allowing him a glimpse of what I feel!

  That disappointment quickly turns into anger; anger at myself for allowing him that glimpse, and most importantly, anger at Phoenix for taking my heart and practically stomping on it. I was stupid to believe that he would listen to me. And then the way that he kissed me, the way his body reacted to mine- did he just do that to prove a point that I’m still affected by him? Like he did last week at the club? Did I really fall for it again?

  No, that couldn’t have been it. He must have felt something like I did. He must have!

  Jesus, now is not the time to be arguing with myself, not where he is able to see everything written all over my face!

  I nod, understanding.

  “Fine. You still want to fight?” It’s a rhetorical question, which he knows. “Well, I’m not going to stand around and watch you possibly get your ass handed to you. I cannot watch anything happen to you. I won’t watch anything happen to you. So have a nice fight, and I hope it’s worth it, Phoenix.” I hope he gets my hidden meaning there. I didn’t even understand myself until I said it. What I mean is that, I guess if he decides he wants to, I would give us another chance to start over again right now if he chose not to fight.

  I stand motionless, just staring at him for a few seconds, looking for any sign that he will take me up on my offer. I hope more than anything that he takes me up on my offer. I’m starting to realize that I’m never going to be able to get over him, so I just need to find a way to move forward with him. I finally have. I just hope that he feels the same.

  Except his face tells me that he’s torn, until I see a resolute decision on his face, and I don’t like it one bit. My heart breaks all over again. I can feel it falling out of my chest
and rolling under his foot, getting smashed to dust. Dramatic? Maybe. But Phoenix makes me that way, which is why I’ve kept my distance from him for so long.

  Phoenix drops his eyes to the floor before his icy blues rest on me, the soft look from before completely gone, having been replaced with his cold ones. My Phoenix, the one that I fell for all those years ago, is gone again. In his place is the evil one who only cares for himself.

  “Go home, Emilia.” It’s a demand, one that leaves no room for questions.

  Then he’s gone from the room, leaving me staring at he space that he’s just vacated.

  I shouldn’t have come. I knew I shouldn’t have come, but I did anyway because a tiny little part of me, the naïve part of me, believed that I could persuade him. How silly of me! I’m not anything to him anymore, so why would he listen to me?

  “Hey, did it work?” Maxine’s cautious voice breaks into my thoughts from behind.

  My eyes are stinging, my tears threatening to make themselves known. Not here though. Not turning around to face her, I reply as strongly as I can muster, “No, sorry.”

  I hear her sigh of defeat. I turn around. “I’m just going to go home. I’ve got things to do tomorrow, bright and early, so I’m going to catch an early night.”

  Maxine raises her eyebrow, a smirk making its way onto her once worried face. “You mean, you have to wake up at the crack of dawn to run a marathon?”

  This causes me to laugh. She knows me so well. “Yes, exactly that.”

  She smiles, nodding her understanding. “Thank you for trying anyway, sweetie. I’ll text you tomorrow?” I nod. “Drive safely, and I love you.” She gives me a hug, squeezing me tightly. I can feel her nervous energy transferring to me. She’s worried for Phoenix, especially now that I can’t help.

  “I love you too, Max,” I whisper, my sorrow threatening to break to the surface. I have to leave now.

  I pull back, trying my hardest to give her a smile, which she returns about as easily as it was for me.

  I walk out of the room, making sure that my head is held high in case I see Phoenix or he sees me. I don’t want him to know how badly he’s affected me. I want him to think I’m indifferent to the situation.

  I make sure that I don’t look in the direction of the cage, which is easy because the whole place is jam-packed. I wouldn’t be able to see above the sea of heads even if I tried.

  As soon as I walk through the doors and out into the night time air, I take a deep breath.

  Just wait until you get home. Then you can break down where nobody can see how weak of a person you really are.

  I rush to my car, start it up, and speed off in the direction of home.

  Phoenix

  When Emilia gave me that hidden ultimatum, I knew I was screwed. I wanted nothing more than to agree, to have her to love and to hold, to be able to call her mine once and for all, except that can’t happen right now. At least, not until I’ve paid the price. Not until I’ve done my deed. Only then can we be together. Now I’ve probably fucked that all up, losing her for a second time.

  It was easier up until a few weeks ago when I never really had to see her, only bumping into her every once in a while. I mean, I never stopped loving her. She’s the reason I do what I do, but before, I was able to hide my true feelings from the wrong people. Before, I was able to keep my distance. Now that we are practically partners, constantly stepping on each others’ toes, it’s so hard to keep my feelings hidden. Especially after last week when I seduced her, cracking her open, bare to me, and then leaving her high and dry.

  I’m a bastard, an utter total bastard.

  That guy, though, that’s not me, not really. I’m hidden under the shell I’ve perfected over the years. Deep down is the guy that Emilia knew from when she was younger, the one who promised to take her away from all of this, to protect her for the rest of my life.

  And that’s what I was doing. Protecting her. Except, now I see that I haven’t. I’ve just allowed what was happening behind closed doors to happen more easily because I wasn’t there. I was a threat, so they got rid of me, giving me a proposition, which I eagerly took thinking that I was protecting my woman, when in fact, I was doing the complete opposite. No wonder she hates my guts most of the time. She truly believes I let her down, lied to her, but why would she think anything different? I never explained myself.

  After I heard what that son of a bitch, Nico, was doing to her the other day, I made a vow. I’m going to finish what I started and then claim my woman, and nobody, and I mean NOBODY, is going to stop me from doing that.

  For now, I need to focus on the task at hand. The reason I do what I do.

  Fight my opponent and win.

  This should be a walk in the park with the way I’ve been feeling recently.

  ****

  Bursting through the front door to my apartment, I drop my keys on the entrance table and limp to the sofa, hissing through my teeth. I knew this guy was tough competition; I just didn’t know how much. It was the toughest fight I’ve ever had, and judging by the amount of pain wracking through my body, I’m going to be a sight for sore eyes tomorrow. I can hardly see at the moment as it is because my eyes are already swelling shut. Fucker got me good!

  “Hey, you alright, buddy?” Dylan asks, sitting on the coffee table in front of me.

  “Yeah, nothing a couple of Xanax and a good night’s sleep won’t cure.” I laugh humorlessly.

  “You know you don’t have to lie to me, right? I saw the fight, Phoenix. You were lucky to come out looking as good as you do.”

  “I won, didn’t I?”

  “Barely, Phoenix, and you know it. This was your toughest fight yet, which is why I didn’t want you to fight. You could have gotten yourself killed out there tonight! Someone must be watching over you.” He sighs, closing his eyes.

  Yeah, I’ve got quite a few people watching over me.

  “Look, what’s done is done. There’s no point dwelling on the past, and that’s what this is now, the past. That opponent is history.” We both know that’s a lie.

  “You may not have to fight him anymore, but what about the next guy? You know they are just going to get harder now. What happens if one day you aren’t so lucky?”

  I swallow because I’ve already thought about that before.

  “That won’t happen. The end is in reach, Dylan. It’s nearly over.”

  Dylan slowly nods his head, contemplating what I’m telling him. “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am right. Now, can you get me a glass of water and some Xanax? I’m going to go get changed and hit the sack. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” I get to see my beautiful, feisty Em.

  “Sure.”

  I limp into my bedroom, the white of the walls cold and emotionless, the same as the whole of my apartment. When I moved in, I didn’t bother decorating properly. I have my reasons.

  I quickly change out of my shorts. Wearing only my boxers, I climb into bed, hissing in pain as I try to get comfortable. My fucking ribs are hurting like a mother fucker. I’m pretty sure I have one or two broken tonight. It hurts like a bitch, but I’ve dealt with worse before.

  “Here you go.” Dylan passes me the water and Xanax. I take them in one gulp, passing him the glass, which he puts on the nightstand next to my bed. “I’ll be off then. I’ll call you tomorrow to see how you’re feeling.”

  We say our goodbyes, and Dylan sees himself out. I turn off the lamp next to my bed and lie down, just staring at the ceiling.

  The same as every night recently, sleep evades me. Emilia is on my mind, tormenting me. I just hope that the plan I’ve been working toward for the past four years works, and that Emilia is able to forgive me. I couldn’t imagine not having her in my life ever again. She’s it for me, whether she knows it yet or not.

  Chapter Eight

  Since waking up this morning, it’s been non-stop. I woke up extra early to make up for missing my run yesterday, and worked extra hard today, so hard th
at I’m limping from where my muscles have seized up. I welcome the pain. Pain is good. My mantra – it helps me remember that I’m human, and I needed that after waking up this morning, my eyes puffy and red from my embarrassing ugly cry last night. I needed it to help me remember why I run in the first place - to help toughen me up.

  I shower and get dressed before heading out to the store to buy myself something for lunch. Nothing in the house took my fancy, and I end up buying the ingredients for an omelet. Then I have some paperwork to do for the club that didn’t get done last night. After that’s done, I decide to do some more exercise because I just haven’t done enough today.

  Now, I’m applying the finishing touches to my make-up before heading off to the club for a grueling night of being around drunk people. Managing this club is definitely not my career choice, but what choice do I have right now?

  Picking up my cell phone off of my desk, I shove it into my bag and grab my car keys, then make my way downstairs.

  “Emilia, can you come here a minute please?” My father’s voice reverberates around the cold house.

  Against my own judgment, I make my way to his office, standing in the doorway and not making any attempt to go through.

  “Take a seat?” he asks, looking at me pointedly, though we both know that it’s not a question. It’s a demand.

  I keep eye contact with him the whole way to the chair, where I sit down on the edge, ready to leave at any second. I do a good job most days of not bumping into him, not giving him any reason to talk to me. What could he possibly want to talk to me about now?

  “How’s the club?” he asks when I make no move to ask why I’m here.

  Is that what he brought me in here for? Small talk?

  “It’s going well,” I reply, and he nods.

  “Good. I heard that you went to see Phoenix last night before his fight?”

  And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, the real reason that I was called here. How would he know though? Does he have tabs on me at all times? That thought makes a shudder wrack through my body.

 

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